and todayā¦ i missed God.
i missed peace,
the silence,
the kind of love that asks for nothing in return,
the simplicity that hugs you without words.
i missed the days when my soul believed
that good would always win.
when the world still smelled like a brand new morning,
and the heart still believed in the miracle of tomorrow.
and to try to calm the hurricane living inside meā¦
i came to write.
to pour out.
to hold myself with words,
like someone trying to stop a pain no one sees.
as i write,
the song Pain by Luka Å uliÄ plays softly in the backgroundā¦
and it feels like every note of that cello
is translating what even i canāt put into words.
itās as if the melody knows where it hurts,
where it bleeds,
where it aches and calls.
yesā¦
my soul feels pain.
not the loud kind ā
but that quiet, existential ache
that lies down silently in the chestā¦
and stays.
my soul is tired.
tired of pretending to be strong,
tired of smiling without reason,
tired of surviving in a world that forgot how to feel.
but you know whatā¦
despite all of it,
my soul still has faith.
faith that thereās something beyond the chaos,
beyond the noise,
beyond the rush,
beyond this desert.
faith that God still lives in the details ā
in the breeze that brushes your face,
in the tear that falls without cause,
in the song that hugs you without touch.
today i didnāt come to teach,
or to say āthis too shall pass.ā
i just came to feel.
i just came to exist.
and to share this moment with other souls
who might also be tiredā¦
but who, just like me,
still believe in the light.
still long for God.
still cry when they hear the cello speak.
because some painā¦
only music understands.
some faithā¦
only the soul remembers.
and some silencesā¦
only God can translate.
kaledo-art
andulkaphoto
snowghoul
romaincrisis
